


Taking Joy in the Killing

by LostCybertronian



Series: Threat Level: God [2]
Category: One Punch Man
Genre: Angst, M/M, One Punch Man - Freeform, TLG!AU, Will add more as I go, opm, read that first, sequel to Threat Level: God
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-02 22:48:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12735864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostCybertronian/pseuds/LostCybertronian
Summary: The threat level of God, the first in history, has been defeated. Genos is now known as the strongest hero, and Saitama, stuck in a comatose state, has been demonized and left behind by everyone but Genos.But things are not all perfect in paradise. Heroes are going missing and a new villain arises, one that may topple the reconstruction efforts of the Hero Association and plunge the Cities into chaos.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sequel to Threat Level God! Updates every Wednesday, as I did with the last one.  
> This one will be fun, I think.
> 
> Honestly, I headcanon that Mumen isn't the type to swear, which creates potentially hilarious opportunities.  
> I also thing it's funny how every time I get stuck on a scene, I can fix it by having Genos monologue.

_Six Months After the Events that Transpired in Threat Level: God_

“You can’t catch me, you rusty tin can!” A figure clad in black and silver flashed by, almost too fast to see, purple scarf trailing out behind him,  
Genos remained where he was, calculating, preparing, saying nothing. He would not give his opponent the satisfaction.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the figure lunge.  
He spun, palms glowing, and batted away the sword that suddenly appeared from seemingly nowhere.  
It didn’t do much: the sword came flashing out again, aiming for his neck, but the cyborg blocked it with his arm.  
This went on for few minutes, Genos blocking the blade with his forearms again and again, catching it inches away from sinking into his face, throat, or chest.  
It ended with the figure on his knees, sword wrenched from his hands and tossed away, Genos’ fiery palm in his face.  
“I thought you said this would be a challenge,” Genos growled.  
Sonic’s smile grew wider. “I recall you saying the same thing.”  
Genos scowled and withdrew his palm, examining the dents on his forearm from where the sword made contact with it.  
“Aw, did the wittle cyborg get a boo boo?” Sonic mocked, popping to his feet and dashing to retrieve his katana, which lay on the floor a few feet away.  
“Shut up.” Genos’ pocket buzzed, and he pulled out his phone. “Hello? This is Genos.”  
“You are needed in City B, there is a Demon-level threat rampaging and causing widespread destruction,” the voice on the other end said.  
“Are there no other competent heroes nearby?” Genos asked, irritated. He had other errands that had to be accomplished.  
“Since the Threat Level of God six months ago and the damage done by him, we have been struggling to rebuild and-” the voice babbled on about how they were still short on heroes since so many were killed, what heroes remained were needed in the rebuilding effort, etc. etc.  
All the while Genos’ scowl deepened until he finally snapped, “Fine. I will be there shortly.”  
“Hurry! Many thanks, Demon Cyborg!” The person hung up.  
Genos sighed. He had intended to go visit Saitama after he and Sonic were finished with their sparring session. He may not have time, depending on how powerful the monster was and how much damage he would sustain during the fight.  
Oh well, he could always apologize to Saitama tomorrow when he visited him.  
Another part of his irritation stemmed from the fact that the Hero Association still insisted on calling Saitama the “Threat Level of God” instead of his given name, his hero name, Bald Cape, or even his villain name, which was Caped Malevolence. To insinuate that Saitama was nothing but a statistic, a “threat level,” was insulting and devalued his enormous strength and the hero work he had done previous to his brief stint as the world’s most powerful villain. Genos would have to discuss it with them again.  
Adjusting his sleeveless jacket, Genos was about to leave when he remembered Sonic. He turned to see the ninja sprawled lazily against the gray-painted wall of his small apartment, playing on his phone.  
Genos didn’t ask what pocket on the skin-tight bodysuit that Sonic had pulled the phone from. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to know anyway.  
“I have to go,” he said instead.  
“Figured.” Sonic said, rolling his eyes. “Going to play hero, just like you always do.”  
As soon as the words left his mouth there was a frenzied knock on the door.  
Before Genos could even turn, Sonic was there, a small knife in hand. He opened the door quickly, raising the knife, and Mumen came stumbling in, covered in sweat and breathing heavily.  
“Jiminy Christmas, Sonic!” He yelped as he spotted the knife. “What the hell?”  
Sonic shrugged and pocketed the knife. “You could’ve been anyone.”  
“Well-” Mumen shook his head, “whatever. The point is, there’s this big monster in City B. I need you guys to-”  
“Did you bike all the way here from City B?” Genos asked incredulously.  
“That’s not the point!” Mumen cried, exasperated. “A bunch of heroes got knocked out and I need you guys to come with me, _now.”_  
“You know I don’t play hero with you losers.” Sonic crossed his arms, smirking.  
Mumen shot him a glare through the fogged-up lenses of his goggles. “Sonic!”  
“Fine.”  
Genos started toward the door. “Let’s go.”  
\---  
City B was in chaos. Cars jammed the roads and throngs of people fled the explosions and noises of destruction coming from further inside the City.  
“We won’t get there in time,” Genos strained to shout above the noise if the crowds as he shoved past people.  
“Up on the roofs.” Sonic suggested, appearing beside him.  
“I can’t get up there.” Mumen pointed out from just behind them, struggling to catch up. His face was pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.  
Sonic cast him a scathing glance. “I told you you should’ve waited until you were fully recovered until you resumed hero work. Look at you.”  
“Now’s not the time to worry about that!” Mumen protested. “We have to destroy the monster so more innocent lives aren’t lost.”  
“Mumen’s right,” Genos said, “the monster is more important than his current state of health.”  
He glanced around, surveying their surroundings. Finally, he looked up.  
“You and Mumen stay on the ground,” he ordered, “I’ll go on ahead.”  
Before they could answer, he powered up his jet propulsors and jumped, the force of the jets built into his shoulders allowing him to easily reach the roof of the tall building.  
From such a height, Genos could spot the monster in the near distance, using its massive tentacle-like appendages to pick things up and throw them down again with astounding force, using them to knock down buildings and to put things in its massive mouth. Despite the tentacles, it didn’t really look like a squid or an octopus. It appeared to be a giant, purple, furry ball sporting a mouth that took up ninety-five percent of its body.  
Genos couldn’t really pinpoint what it could be, exactly, but he knew with one hundred percent certainty that he was going to destroy it.  
He took off in a sprint, hurtling from building to building, funneling energy to the jets in his shoulders to help him run even faster.  
Cries of “it’s Demon Cyborg!” “He’s come to save us!” “Kick its ass, Demon Cyborg!” rippled among the array of those who were brave enough to stay and watch as heroes attempted to take down the creature.  
Since Genos had defeated Saitama, he had become well-known and widely praised as the first and only hero to take down a threat level of God. That seemed to automatically have made him the strongest hero. And, as a result, it made him wildly popular.  
It irritated him to no end that he was being put on the pedestal that Saitama rightfully deserved. But Saitama wouldn’t have put up a fuss, so Genos didn’t either, despite how much he ached to.  
The buzz of the crowds and the challenging roar of the monster as it spotted him brought his focus back to the present moment.  
_Focus!_ Genos berated himself. _Don’t let your guard down._ He launched himself from the building, blasting large swaths of flames from his palms.  
The monster screamed and writhed as fire washed over it, lashing out at surrounding buildings with its tentacles, grabbing cars and other debris and throwing them at him. Genos dodged, skidding from left to right, and the heavy hunks of metal went whooshing by him.  
The shouts of support quickly became cries of fear and panic and the crowds scattered in all directions as debris crashed to the ground.  
The monster swung its massive head towards them, distracted by the potentially easier prey.  
_It will slaughter them!_ Genos realized with a jolt. _I have to do something._  
“Get out of here!” He shouted at the panicking citizens, “I will distract it!”  
_Where are the other heroes?_ He swallowed the lump of irritation that rose in his throat as he lunged towards the creature. _Did they run away? What cowards._  
“Machine gun blow!”  
But before he could deliver a blow to it, it swung out a tentacle which collided with him in midair, sending him flying  
Genos crashed through the cement wall of a building, barely managing to catch himself as he flopped onto the floor, surrounded by chunks of cement and shards of glass that sliced through his clothing. He took stock of his surroundings, noting that he appeared to be in the office of some sort of businessman, and that there didn’t appear to be anything that could be used as a weapon. A small cacti sat on the neatly organized wooden desk, the only splash of color in a sea of gray and white, and his core twisted when it reminded him of Saitama.  
Banishing those thoughts, he lurched to his feet, immensely grateful that he hadn’t lost any arms or legs, just as the tentacle surged in through the hole in the wall, curling around his waist with crushing strength and dragging him out into the harsh light.  
It roared at him, opened its enormous mouth to reveal rows and rows of jagged, razor-sharp teeth that were coated with blood and gory bits that Genos really didn’t want to identify. Its breath was rancid and, in the process of blowing out Genos’ artificial eardrums, thick globs of saliva flew out, splattering his face and clothes.  
“Incinerate!” He blasted flame down into the monster’s throat, and the air became rife with the stench of burning flesh.  
It released an ear-splitting screech and its hold loosened, allowing Genos to slip free and drop . . . right into its mouth.  
Genos closed his eyes, expecting to be impaled on those sharp teeth and fully prepared to activate his self-destruct protocols as soon as he could be sure he’d take the monster with him.  
_I’m sorry, Saitama, Dr. Kuseno. Forgive me._  
But he never felt the pain of thousands of blade-like fangs plunging into his body. In fact, he felt no pain whatsoever.  
Then he was dumped on the ground.  
“You weigh a ton!” Sonic complained, unsheathing his sword, dipping low into a crouch. “You’re lucky I didn’t drop you.”  
Then he launched himself into battle, disappearing in a flash of black and silver.  
Genos couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he leapt to his feet, powering up his incineration cannons. There was no way Sonic could’ve dropped him. Still, he felt a rush of gratitude toward the ninja for saving his life yet again.  
_Did Mumen make it?_ He glanced over his shoulder.  
The Class-C hero was directing the flow of people, herding them away from the fight, out of reach of the monster’s tentacles. He was pale and a quick scan indicated that his heartbeat was dangerously elevated, but still he helped the people escape, limping along, wheeling his beloved bicycle.  
Genos turned back to the fight.  
Sonic had managed to slice one of the monster’s tentacles off, and it roared in rage and came at him with its remaining appendages, but the ninja was too fast: he slipped away with ease.  
Genos joined in, and together they brought the monster down.  
When it lay in a charred, bloody heap on the pavement, Mumen headed over, a great big smile on his face.  
“All the citizens have been evacuated from this area,” he panted, kicking the stand down on his bike and leaning it to the side. “The Hero Association is on its way.”  
“Many thanks, Mumen.” Genos said with a small smile. Then he happened to glance over the hero’s shoulder and, in the alleyway, there stood a person, shrouded in shadows.  
He opened his mouth to say something but Mumen was already turning to Sonic, and when he looked back up the figure was gone.  
“You should be a hero,” Mumen was saying, and Sonic was already rolling his eyes. Clearly, they’ve had that conversation before. Genos tuned them out.  
A moment later Mumen was tapping Genos’ shoulder. “Hey, Genos. Genos? We should probably get going.”  
“Indeed.” Genos nodded, craning his neck to try and spot the strange person. “You two go on ahead. There’s something I need to investigate.”  
Mumen glanced behind him, smile slipping away to be replaced with concern. “Okay, then. If you need us, just call.”  
Genos gave a grim nod and made for the alleyway.

\---

Even in the middle of the day, the alley still managed to be dim and imposing. Genos kept one of his palms lit as he ventured tentatively into the cramped, filthy alley, golden eyes flicking around warily. His biolights, flickering out from underneath his torn jacket, painted yellow-orange lights on the cement-brick walls.  
He didn’t detect any lifeforms in the immediate vicinity, but he could sense an energy spike that was entirely different from the monster they had just destroyed. Something powerful had been here recently. Within the past hour, at most. _Whatever I saw, it sure wasn’t human._  
He straightened, allowing his palm to extinguish and the alley to fall dark. _Guess it was nothing._  
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there had been something there. Watching him.  
He turned, intending to leave, to visit Saitama and apologize profusely for being late, but he heard a rustle.  
He didn’t even have time to react as a clawed hand grabbed him by the throat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly a filler chapter, I think. Or is it the next chapter that is filler? Who knows. Either way, enjoy!

Genos struggled, striking at the arm that held him. It did no good: the hand only squeezed tighter, cutting off Genos’ airflow and tearing into the fragile circuitry.  
In the dim, he could make out the outline of his attacker, but his proximity sensors remained silent. To his systems, there was nothing there.  
His attacker wheeled him around, slammed him into the wall so hard his vision went fuzzy and pain shot down his spine, dropped him.  
Genos got to his feet, palms glowing. “I saw you watching us. Why?”  
He studied the figure carefully as he waited tentatively for an answer. It didn’t seem to have a set form. Instead, it _flowed,_ loosely resembling a normal human being.   
_A monster?_ If so, then why didn’t his proximity alarms detect it? Were they damaged in the fight? Questions swirled in Genos’ mind but he didn’t dare voice them. This- whatever it was- thing was dangerous. A threat to the populace.  
_What would Saitama do?_  
Genos knew exactly what Saitama would do. He would strike first, ask questions later.  
“Incinerate!” He fired at the creature, filling the alley with such a bright light that Genos was unable to see for a good minute or so until it died down.  
_Good._ He scanned the alley, detecting no trace of the creature. _Now-_  
Something hit him from behind and suddenly there was . . . _blackness._ In his eyes, in his nose, forcing its way down his throat, _everywhere. _It choked him, and red lights blared at the edges of his vision.  
“In . . .cin . . .er . . .ate . .!” The explosion freed him, throwing him backwards so that he collided with the wall, back of his head smacking against the hard surface with a sickening thump, blue electricity springing from the resulting dent. He sank to the ground, head swimming, his surroundings reduced to nothing more than blur. His limbs felt heavy as he attempted to raise them.  
He shakily raised his head, but no dark creature appeared. Through the ringing in his ears, however, he could hear someone calling his name.  
“Genos?”   
It sounded like Mumen. _Don’t . . .!_  
A gasp. “Genos! Are you okay?!”  
Genos opened his mouth to warn Mumen of the _thing_ that had tried to kill him but only a distorted groan came out.   
“You’re okay. I’ve got you.”   
The cyborg faintly registered an arm slipping under his knees, another around his back. Then he was being lifted.   
His head lolled against Mumen’s shoulder and he managed to catch a glimpse of the figure, watching them. Then his vision faded away and he passed out.  
\---  
The sun was dipping low below the horizon by the time Genos was finished with Dr. Kuseno.   
The old man repaired him with a warm smile and a stern lecture: “you really need to be more careful, Genos, especially since your master is no longer around to protect you.”  
Genos didn’t inform him of the shadowy figure that attacked him in the alley. Dr. Kuseno had enough to worry about, with the reconstruction effort taking up much of his time and energy. The Hero Association demanded much of him, and had been doing so since they learned that it was he who synthesized the serum that Genos had used to defeat Saitama and reduce him to a powerless shell of his former self.  
He rubbed at his forehead as he took the elevator down to the ground floor of the newly rebuilt Hero Association headquarters, the first fully repaired and functional building to spring up in the aftermath. He couldn’t get the creature- for lack of better name for it, as he was unable to identify just what it was- that had attacked him out of his head. He hadn’t been able to detect it on his proximity sensors, which was primarily what unnerved him so much. There was nothing that could slip under his radar. Dr. Kuseno had ensured that through his painstaking reconstruction of Genos’ body many years ago.  
The second thing was the _way_ it had attacked him. It hadn’t gone for chest or throat, the way most opponents did: it had invaded in through his mouth and his nose and his eyes.   
He was itching to discuss this with Saitama.   
“Genos!” A voice called from behind him.  
Swallowing his annoyance, Genos turned to find Sitch hurrying towards him.  
“Do you have a moment?” The executive asked.  
Genos sighed. “I do have errands to attend to-”  
“It wasn’t a request.” Sitch interrupted. He gestured for Genos to follow. “Come along.”  
A few minutes later, Genos ended up in a room full of Hero Association executives, all dressed in neat, fancy suits.   
Sitch motioned for the cyborg to sit, so he did, perching awkwardly in the chair at the end of the table, crossing his arms over his tattered, singed jacket.  
“Genos,” one of them, a woman, her eyes sharp and cold, began, “we understand you visit Caped Malevolence every day in the hospital.”  
“Yes.” Genos nodded, eyes narrowing. “May I ask why this is relevant?”  
_This isn’t about the monster we fought this afternoon. Why did they call me here?_  
“We are asking if he has shown any signs of waking up.” This time it was Sitch who spoke. “We are not questioning your motives behind visitation, as you have previously explained to us the bond you had maintained . . .” He cleared his throat. “We must be prepared for the possibility that Caped Malevolence will emerge from his comatose state and wreak further havoc to the Cities.”  
“Dr. Kuseno has informed me that his serum has quite effectively rendered _Saitama-”_ Genos placed emphasis on the name, “-powerless. Even if he were to wake up right this second, he wouldn't be able to do nearly the amount of damage he did six months ago.”   
“We know what the doctor has said.” The woman cut in, “we want to know your thoughts on the matter, since you were closest to Caped Malevolence.”  
 _How am I more qualified than Dr. Kuseno?_ Genos wondered, but nonetheless, he continued, fidgeting in his seat. “I believe that Saitama is no longer a threat.”  
“Thank you, Demon Cyborg. That is all we needed to hear.” Sitch straightened his stack of papers and smiled.  
Genos moved to stand. “I am free to leave?”  
“Yes. But one more thing.” Sitch motioned to the woman, who pressed a button on the table.   
A projection shot up, showing pictures of three heroes: Lightning Genji, Snakebite Snek, and Red Muffler.   
“Have you seen these heroes? They were dispatched to fight the monster today and they have not been heard from since.”   
Genos eyed the pictures, and a flicker of a memory came to mind. Finally, he shook his head. “No. They were not present in the fight against the monster today.”  
“Very well. Thank you, Demon Cyborg.”  
Genos gave a shallow bow and left.  
The air outside was cold, signifying the turn of fall to winter, but it didn’t bother Genos as he ran home, back to City Z and back to the tiny apartment he and Saitama used to share. It was far too late to visit his former sensei now. He would stop by tomorrow.   
His head whirled with thoughts of his attacker and of the missing heroes. The figure- that's really all he could describe it as, and it stumped him that, with all the upgrades that Dr. Kuseno had given him, he hadn’t been able to identify his attacker as anything other than a _figure-___ hadn’t tried to kill him. At least, not with any weapon Genos had been able to see besides the smoke that had invaded his body.   
There was something he was missing. He was sure of it. But as he pushed open the door to the apartment he decided to, as Saitama would say, “leave tomorrow’s problems to tomorrow’s me,” and get some rest. Perhaps tomorrow’s him would have better luck at sorting all this out.  
He changed into fresh, non-ripped, unburned clothes and forced himself to choke down some leftover noodles he had prepared the night before. Then he turned on the news, simply for something to occupy his thoughts.   
The news anchor held a neat stack of papers in her manicured hands as she reported on the rising number of monster attacks and how there were not enough heroes to defend the Cities due to decreasing numbers in applications for the entrance exam.   
Genos knew this to be true: many potential heroes now refused to take the entrance exam in fear of another God-level threat like the one that had claimed the lives of so many heroes. He had been called into a useless meeting a few months ago on this, along with the other Class-S heroes. Not much had come from that meeting.  
When he did finally turn off the television and settle down, he couldn’t sleep. He lay on his back on the futon that Saitama used to occupy, staring up at the ceiling with golden eyes, mind churning. He wished Saitama were here. He’d know what to do. But Saitama was in a coma in the hospital in City A, where he would likely remain for a long time yet. Dr. Kuseno had warned him that he may not wake up at all, that the two serums- the cure to that monster’s toxin and the death serum- reacting with each other had not only taken Saitama’s powers but had damaged his brain beyond repair. That, even in the very unlikely chance that he did wake up, he would never quite be the same again.  
It had been six months, and Genos was beginning to lose hope that his beloved sensei would ever return to him.  
Genos’ proximity alarms pinged. There was something approaching at an incredible speed. He sat up, tossing aside the covers, gaze sweeping the room, fixing on the glass door, where a lithe dark outline crouched like the cat that came by sometimes.   
“Sonic,” He growled.  
The outline moved, silently sliding the glass door open and creeping inside.   
“What are you doing here?” Genos got to his feet, igniting his palm and creating a halo of light that partially illuminated the room.  
Sonic blinked against the sudden glare, holding up a hand to shield his eyes. “Put that away, you stupid toaster. I’m not here to fight.”  
“Then why are you here?” Genos demanded. But he extinguished the flame in his palm, plunging the apartment into darkness again.  
Sonic sighed and lowered his hand, shooting him a violet glare. “Mumen is missing.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genos and Sonic investigate into the disappearance of Mumen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not any good at drunk language. I meant to do some research but I never got around to it.  
> Anyhoo, enjoy this latest installment.

“What do you mean, Mumen is _missing?”_ Genos crossed his arms, staring at the ninja in disbelief. “I was with him earlier this afternoon. He brought me to Dr. Kuseno for repairs. Weren’t you there?”  
He could tell by the scathing glance Sonic gave the floor that no, the ninja hadn’t been present when Mumen had rescued Genos from his attacker.  
“I need your help to find him.” Sonic muttered.  
“Are you sure he didn't just go on patrol? He does that quite often.”   
Sonic continued to glower holes in the floor, mumbling something under his breath.  
Genos sighed. “Speak up.”  
“I said I haven’t been letting him patrol at night!” Quick as a snake, Sonic whipped out a small blade and threw it at the floor, impaling it in the wood.  
Genos opened his mouth to protest the damaging of Saitama’s apartment, then thought better of it. “Mumen was cleared for hero work a month ago. It is not your job to say otherwise.”  
Another blade buried itself in the wood, inches away from the futon.  
“Have you not been paying any attention?” Sonic’s voice rose until he was shouting. “I mean, I knew you were thick, but I thought that with all your high-tech _shit_ that you’d at least notice _something.”_  
Genos seized the ninja’s wrist as he was about to flick another blade and wrestled it away from him.  
“I notice enough,” he said quietly. Then he proceeded to tell Sonic about the figure in the alleyway and how it had appeared to be made of nothing but smoke and shadows. How it had attacked him and invaded his body and mind and, while he’d been able to defeat it, it had left him virtually powerless. He told him of the missing heroes, but he left out his meeting with the Hero Association and the questions they’d asked him about Saitama. Sonic didn’t need to know that part.  
“I hadn’t been able to detect it on my proximity sensors,” he finished carefully, “but I saw it once more after Mumen found me. It was watching us.”  
“It must have taken him!” Sonic hissed.  
Genos nodded, realization dawning on him. “And if it took Mumen, then it must’ve taken the other heroes as well. It must’ve been trying to take me, not kill me.”  
“But what for?”  
Genos couldn’t answer. He didn’t know the answer to that.  
Together they left the apartment and made for City B, intent on hunting down whatever had attacked Genos and taken Mumen.  
With the amount of speed they had between them, they easily reached City B in under an hour, minutes before midnight struck.  
City B, being located immediately next to City A, was one of the Cities that had been repaired first in the aftermath of Saitama’s attack. However, it hadn’t sustained nearly as much damage as City Z or City A had.   
Unlike City Z, what little damage City B had sustained during Saitama’s rampage had been immediately repaired. Much of City Z had been destroyed, and very little had been repaired. Many had moved away, leaving the so-called “ghost” City mostly abandoned. Genos remained, living in the apartment he and Saitama had once shared. Nobody seemed to want to question him on this decision, though he had received many odd- some hateful, some pitiful, oh, how Genos had _loathed_ them- looks when the Hero Association had come forward about his relationship with Saitama and how he had “taken advantage” of that relationship in order to defeat him.  
Genos had gone along with it. It was a better option than the alternative.  
When they reached City B, Sonic took the streets while Genos ran the rooftops, practically flying from roof to roof in a blur of black and gray, moonlight glinting off the exposed metal of his arms and neck.   
He should’ve been focusing on the task at hand, but suddenly all he could see was the yellow-white blur of Saitama chasing him, and Genos pushed himself harder, feeling the weight of the precious briefcase in his hand, desperate not to let his beloved teacher catch him.   
Who knew what would happen if he was caught.  
His phone buzzing in his back pocket snapped him back to the present and he skidded to a halt, inches away from the lip of a building bordering on a dark, cramped-looking alley.  
He pulled his phone out, flipped it open, attempted to calm himself down as he held it to his ear.  
“Anything?”  
“No, nothing.” he replied.  
“Me neither.” Sonic sounded annoyed and slightly out of breath.  
“Perhaps we should consider heading back-” Genos’ proximity alarms beeped, detecting a sudden spike of energy originating from the alley below. “Wait. I just picked up something.”  
“On my way.” The line went dead.  
Genos flipped the phone shut and returned it to his pocket. He leaned over the edge, peering into the blackness below. He could faintly pick up what sounded like a scuffle: rustling and muffled grunts.  
It could very well be nothing, a mere spar between two perfectly normal civilians.   
But at the same time, he would detect the same energy spike if the creature were attacking a civilian or another hero, even if the creature itself couldn’t be detected.  
It could be nothing. But then again . . .  
After one quick glance over his shoulder, Genos was hopping over the ledge, into the darkness.  
His palms cast halos of light on the heavily-graffitied cement walls as he crept toward the noise. Hot anger rushed through his systems. He would demolish this creature. He would make it regret its very existence.  
A pained cry rang out, and Genos charged forward, raising his palm, steam whooshing out from the vents in his arms, drifting from his mouth as he breathed.  
What he found wasn’t quite what he expected.  
The two men gaped at him, obviously shocked to have their fight interrupted by a high-ranking Class-S hero in all his fiery glory.  
One of the men- short, sporting a scruffy beard and long, greasy hair pulled back into a ponytail- released the sweatshirt of his victim, allowing him to drop to the ground as if he had no bones in his body, and staggered toward Genos.   
Genos straightened, eyeing the man with cool disdain. A hasty scan established them both as drunk. Though the second man- lying on the ground, staring at Genos with fear evident on his face, blood gushing from his nose- had slightly lower blood alcohol levels.   
“Yyyouuu- _hic!_ \- think y’can intrrrupt jusss’ cuz- _hic!_ \- yer sum hot-stuff heero?” The man slurred, stumbling right up to Genos and jabbing a finger at his chest.  
The cyborg scowled and snatched the man’s hand in a grip of steel and dragged him closer until they were nose to nose.  
The man whimpered as his hand was twisted and the bones ground together painfully, but, even drunk, he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.  
“I recommend you watch your step,” He snarled, “unless you wish to face arrest for impeding upon an official Hero Association investigation.”  
He allowed his palm to heat, and soon the acrid smell of sizzling flesh drifted up between them.  
The man’s eyes widened and he nodded rapidly, squirming against Genos’ grip. “Yessir, Demon- _hic!_ \- Cyborg, sir!”  
“Good. Now get out of here, and leave this man alone.” Genos released him, and the man fell to his knees, clutching at his hand for a moment before scrabbling up, nearly falling back down again before he managed to get away, retreating into the darkness beyond the small circle of light.   
The other man, still sprawled on the filthy pavement, stared at Genos the entire time with wide, frightened eyes, and he struggled to get up, to flee as the cyborg approached him, extinguishing his palms.  
“You appear to have three broken ribs and a broken nose. Stay still, and I will bring you to the nearest hospital.” Genos ran a scan on the man’s condition and knelt next to him, helping him sit up. “What is your name?”  
“Hisatsugu,” the man coughed, body spasming with the force, blood splattering down his chin. He winced and clutched at his chest. Another scan indicated that his heart rate had elevated to dangerous levels.  
Genos frowned. “It is likely that one of your lungs has been punctured. I will-” He paused as Hisatsugu’s gaze shifted from him to a point just over the cyborg’s shoulder. “Hisatsugu?”  
He twisted to look behind him just as a massive, clawed hand plunged into his side.  
Sparks and electricity flew as the creature removed its hand, and there was a split second where there was only silence, Genos glancing down at the ripped cloth and metal and bleeding circuitry, then up at Hisatsugu.  
Then the creature batted him aside like he was nothing, sending him crashing into the wall of the building protruding into the alley.  
The room he found himself landing in seemed to be some sort of jewelry store, and that guess was quickly confirmed as he crashed into a glass case, scattering tiny, shiny things in every direction. After that came the high-pitched ringing of the security alarm being set off, but that was the least of Genos’ problems.  
 _I have to save him!_ The cyborg struggled to rise, only to flop back down again as anything below the waist refused to respond. When he attempted to run a scan his systems notified him that his left hip joint and left leg was missing and his right one was malfunctioning, rendering his right leg utterly useless.  
He arched his back as a jolt of pain shot up his side, gritting his teeth.   
When he lifted his head, he could make out the hulking form of the monster as it hunched over Hisatsugu.   
He lifted his arm. “Incinerate!”  
Several balls of flame struck the creature, but it didn’t turn around, didn’t even react. His flames had no effect on this thing whatsoever.  
Then came the screams, agonized cries that cut off midway.  
Genos went limp, the back of his head hitting the hardwood floor as he spared himself a few tears. He knew he would be next, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t physically move, couldn’t make himself move.  
He could faintly make out a shout of “exploding shurikens!” before he detected bright light and loud pops.  
Then, as he always seemed to be, Sonic was there.  
“Come on, Genos. We have to get out of here before the cops come!”   
_But, Hisatsugu!_ Genos wanted to shout, but only a groan escaped him.   
“Shut up.” Sonic snapped as he hoisted Genos over his shoulder with one hand, reaching for his belt with the other.   
A moment later they were moving, not toward the hole in the wall but toward the fancy glass doors at the front of the shop that faced the streets.  
“Such an idiot. Such an idiot. Such an idiot.” Sonic muttered obscenities under his breath as they charged for the glass doors. His grip on Genos tightened. “Hold on.”  
Genos glanced up, over Sonic’s shoulder to see the creature appear on the other side of the wall, peering through the hole, watching them.   
And then they were crashing through the glass door, shards of glass flying everywhere, and they were running to the sound of sirens behind them and when Genos managed to glance up again the creature was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonic attempts to rescue Dr. Kuseno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen next? I sure don't know!

They made it back to Sonic’s apartment around dawn.   
It had been a long trip with Sonic having to avoid police cars and helicopters by squeezing down back alleys and even breaking into an elderly lady’s home, crouching in her kitchen while she slept in the next room, Sonic anxiously peering out the window while Genos lay on the floor, utterly useless.  
Somewhere along the way Genos passed out- from pain, or whatever else, he wasn’t entirely sure why- and he woke up lying on Sonic’s threadbare futon while the ninja threw throwing stars at the wall like he could murder the drywall.  
“Why aren’t we going to see Dr. Kuseno?” He mumbled.  
Sonic scowled and turned the radio up. “Listen for yourself.”  
“Authorities are still on the lookout for Class-S, rank two hero Demon Cyborg after a body was found last night in City B. The body was mutilated and had severe burns, which we have seen is the trademark attack of Demon Cyborg. As to why this man, who the authorities identified as-”  
“Enough.” Genos interrupted, but Sonic only shot him a sneer and cranked the volume louder.  
“-was attacked and killed so brutally by the strongest hero is unknown. But there have been claims that it may be related to his relationship with Caped Malevolence-”  
“I said, _turn it off.”_   
The radio was smashed with a throwing star, small black pieces and pieces of circuitry flying everywhere.  
“It seems to like to follow you,” Sonic said curtly. “And, oh. Have you noticed? It _kills_ everyone around you!”  
“We don’t know that Mumen is dead.” Genos said quietly, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. The edges of his vision still crawled with red, but at least the “emergency system shutdown” alarms were gone.   
“Oh yeah?” Genos heard some rustling sounds, and he could guess that Sonic had gotten up, was now pacing. “You saw what that- that _thing-_ did to that guy you tried to save. What it did to _you.”_  
“You’re Class-S, rank two, Genos! _Two!”_ Sonic’s voice rose until he was shouting, the words echoing off the drab walls of his one-room apartment. “It beat the shit out of you. What do you think it will do to Mumen, huh? He can hardly even fend for himself.”  
“We will save Mumen.”  
“He’s probably already _dead!”_ Sonic’s face appeared, staring down at Genos with such contempt in his violet eyes that the cyborg couldn’t help but wince.  
Sonic slammed a foot down on Genos’ throat, right underneath his chin, and suddenly the razor-sharp blade of a sword was directed right in the cyborg’s face.  
“Why should I not just slaughter you here and now?”  
Genos narrowed his eyes, staring Sonic down even as he faced the blade of his sword. Even without being able to stand, he’d annihilate him where he stood.   
But he chose to stay his hand for now.  
“You said it yourself.” He croaked, voice hoarse and straining against the ninja’s foot pressed on his throat. “The creature seems to follow me. If it really is following me, it will turn up for me. It will take me. That is how we will find Mumen and the other heroes.”  
With a fierce glare, Sonic sheathed his sword and stepped back. “Fine. But this plan of yours better turn out or your head will no longer belong to your shoulders.”  
He paused, then added. “How will you bait this creature if you cannot even do so much as stand?”  
“I need Dr. Kuseno.”  
Sonic snorted. “Your precious doctor works for the Hero Association, who, might I mention, is mounting a manhunt for you, and by extension, me. How am I going to sneak you into their _main headquarters?_ In the _busiest_ City?”  
“You aren’t sneaking me in.” Genos told him. “I have a plan.”  
\---  
“I hate you, Genos.” Sonic muttered, pressing himself to the side of the wall as a police car roared by. “I will kill you someday, mark my words.”  
He poked his head around the corner tentatively, making sure the coast was clear before he made a break for it, moving silently down the sidewalk in a blur of black and silver and purple. He was- secretly, as he would never admit that Genos had actually been _right_ about something for once- thankful that they’d waited until nightfall to execute the plan.  
The plan to reach Dr. Kuseno. Or, as Sonic saw it, to kidnap him and bring him back to the apartment to fix Genos. That way, they could defeat the creature and find Mumen.  
And _maybe_ the other heroes who were kidnapped as well. But Sonic couldn’t care less about them. They could be dead, murdered and mutilated just like that poor schmuck had been in the alley that poor Genos had been desperately attempting to save, and he wouldn’t care.   
He wanted- _needed,_ really- Mumen to come back. That was the only reason why he’d even agreed to help carry out that stupid cyborg’s stupid plan in the first place.  
The Hero Association headquarters lay just ahead, and it was much taller than he’d imagined. It rose into the sky so far that even if Sonic tilted his head back as far as it would go he would probably fall over backwards before even coming close to spotting the top floor. It merely . . . disappeared into the night sky, black against black.  
_Snotty, rich bastards._ No matter what Genos said, Sonic seriously doubted that any donations they received actually went towards paying their employees. _More like lining their own pockets._   
Still, he made for the massive building, skidding to a halt by the glass doors and peering in. He could see several guards inside, and as one glanced his way he ducked into the shadows, sweat rolling down his forehead.  
When he squinted through the smudged glass again, the guards were all facing away.  
Unsheathing his sword, he reached for the door handle.  
Those guards didn’t stand a chance. They barely had time to turn around before their heads said farewell to their bodies, falling with heavy _thunks_ to the floor and staining the nicely polished Hero Association logo with red, red blood.  
By the end of it, only Sonic was left standing. Around him were bodies.   
He smiled, toothy grin stretching itself wide across his face as an alarm began to blare. He would slaughter all of them! That would show those snotty, uptight, self-righteous losers who’s boss!  
He didn’t realize he had shouted that last part out loud until he heard a trembling voice declare, “I’ll stop you!”  
Sonic spun. From behind the main desk there poked a pale face, topped with messy brown hair.   
The ninja approached, smiling wickedly, flicking the blood from his   
Sword.  
The guard visibly shook as he popped out from behind the desk, his gun in his hands as he fumbled to point it at Sonic. “I won’t let you kill anyone else!”  
Sonic’s grin slipped away and was replaced by a malicious scowl as he reached out to press the very tip of his blade to the guard’s forehead. “And you think you’ll be able to stop me?”  
Sonic didn’t like this. This quivering, foolish guard looked too much like Mumen.  
He withdrew his sword. “You are lucky. I am feeling merciful today!”   
His grin returned, “you won’t forget about Speed’o’Sound Sonic so easily!”  
The guard nodded rapidly before he fainted to the blood-soaked floor.   
Sonic sheathed his sword with a roll of his eyes. He had better things to do than take easy prey.  
Bigger fish awaited him.  
The alarm continued to blast and the hallway was painted red as Sonic made for the elevator, footsteps noiseless over the pristine tile.  
He passed countless offices as he went, all their doors shut, windows dark. He ignored them. They held no interest for him anyway.  
The thunder of footsteps- more guards, coming to try and intercept him, more likely- was only slightly more cause for concern.   
Sonic reached the elevator just as the first of them- an overly-muscled bald guy who obviously took his job more seriously than he should- rounded the corner and shouted “there he is!”  
Sonic slipped into the elevator just in time, hammering the “door close” button. He had the decency to present them a dramatic bow and flip them off as the elevator doors slid shut just as the swarm of guards reached him. There was the audible _thump_ of a pair of hands slamming against the outside.  
Then . . . Sonic stared at the array of buttons before him.  
 _Which floor is Dr. Kuseno on?_   
Another pair of fists hit the doors. Then another. And another.  
Sonic whipped out his phone, dialed a number. “Genos!”  
“Yes.” The cyborg spoke coolly, which was an entirely inappropriate tone given Sonic’s given situation.   
“What floor is your doctor on?!” Sonic practically shouted the words as several dents appeared in the elevator door.  
“Well his laboratory is on-”  
More dents appeared in the door. It started to buckle. _“Now,_ Genos!”  
“Floor thirteen.” Genos said, “but he may be in the lounge on floor-”  
Sonic hung up on him, practically smashing in the button for floor thirteen.  
He breathed a small sigh of relief as the elevator began to- slowly, couldn’t the Hero Association afford faster elevators?! They could afford everything else!- ascend, dinging as it passed each floor.   
Finally, after an eternity of waiting, the elevator reached floor thirteen.  
As soon as the elevator settled with a heavy _clank_ and the metal doors began to crack open, Sonic barged out.  
The corridor was dark except for the red flashing light of the alarms, mostly silent except for the gentle whirring of machinery and soft, hurried footsteps, punctuated by clattering noises and muffled strings of curses.  
Sonic followed the commotion, keeping low, one hand on the hilt of his sword. Ready.  
It was only a matter of time before those meatheads downstairs worked out which floor he was on and came barrelling up. He would be quick: get in, grab Dr. Whatever-His-Name-Is, get out.  
 _Easy peasy._  
Sonic pulled out a small knife and jammed it into the electronic keypad next to the laboratory doors, causing a white-hot shower of sparks and forcing the doors to grate open.   
What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks and immediately dive for cover behind a large, claw-like machine.  
The lab was in chaos. Machinery destroyed, shards of glass mixed in with hunks of metal and chunks of robots and unidentifiable chemicals. And above the noxious odors and the metallic, oily smells of equipment was the coppery tang of blood.  
\---  
“Someone’s here!”  
A hand clamped over the doctor’s mouth and dragged him from sight as the doors scraped open.   
Dr. Kuseno’s eyes widened and his heart beat faster, hammering against his ribcage as he spotted that ninja. Genos knew him. They’d worked together to defeat Genos’ master. He recalled that his name was Saitama.  
The hand over his mouth shifted, just enough that Dr. Kuseno was able to make a strangled noise that sounded a little like “help!”  
His attacker- he’d been grabbed from behind and had been unable to twist to catch a glimpse- growled in his ear and clamped harder over the doctor’s mouth. But it was too late.  
Sonic whirled toward the noise, reaching for his sword, unsheathing it in a flash of silver.  
He seemed to stare right at them, his purple eyes narrowing dangerously. Then the edges of his form blurred and he disappeared.  
Dr. Kuseno struggled in his attacker’s grip to no avail. It merely tightened its grip, dragging him toward the door, which gaped open.   
“Activate stealth protocols.” Whatever was holding Dr. Kuseno began to click and whir and the doctor was shoved roughly to the floor just as the ninja sprang from seemingly nowhere, his sword flashing out to strike at the empty air where they had been mere seconds before.  
Dr. Kuseno rolled onto his stomach and covered his head with his hands. He couldn’t hear or see the ninja anymore, but he could hear the heavy footsteps of his attacker crunching over shards of glass and broken pieces of his ruined equipment.  
 _I have to get out of here!_ Desperation overtook him and he heaved himself to his hands and knees and began to crawl toward the door.   
Sharp pain shot up his arm and into his shoulder every time he moved, and pieces of glass and metal dug into his palms and knees but still he kept going, making for the door as quickly as his old bones would move.  
Behind him he could hear the ninja cackling, crying out with delight.  
“I’m the fastest! There’s no way you could stand against me!”  
The hard _clang_ of metal on metal.  
“That stupid cyborg was just too slow to take you on! You’re too easy!”  
 _Genos?_ Genos must’ve sent the ninja. Dr. Kuseno had seen the news, seen the  
accusations being fired at his prodigy, knew Genos, and knew that the only way he’d ask for help in a situation like this was if he were injured and out of options.   
He might be in serious trouble.  
The old man must’ve paused for a moment too long in his struggle to reach the exit, because then a thin body was colliding with him and they were both sent flying.  
His head struck something hard, and then he was on the floor, sprawled. His head felt heavy, but he managed to lift it.  
Only to find himself face to face with a mass of black, swirling smoke.


End file.
